


Cherry On Top

by jdmcool



Series: Political Masterminds [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Thick of It (UK)
Genre: Episode Related, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-23
Updated: 2012-09-23
Packaged: 2017-11-14 20:39:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdmcool/pseuds/jdmcool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just when things seemed like they couldn't get any worse for DoSAC, Mycroft drops by for a visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherry On Top

**Author's Note:**

> Post Episode 4.3

Things had almost started to look better after Fergus’ little moment with the press, something that still irked Peter to no end. It was just another thing that the little shite would act all high and mighty over. They had done as much damage control as humanly possible and while he still wasn’t really allowed to comment on the Tickle matter, he couldn’t say that he particularly minded any more. All he wanted to do was to go home and deal with his wife, who was probably still raving about the dog’s paw to someone else, thank heavens.

Sighing as he stood up from his seat, he was about ready to call it a day and just leave the small collective of idiots when he noticed the last person he wanted to deal with making his way down the hall toward them.

“Oh fuck. Who the bloody hell called in the firing squad to finish us all?”

“What?” Fergus asked, looking up from his phone.

Rolling his eyes, Peter sat back down, knowing that he’d be lucky if he got to go home in one piece. “Holmes is here.”

“Fuck. I thought he was in Prague or some other foreign shithole,” Fergus complained, looking as though he might be rather ill.

“Looks like he’s returned. Likely to deal with you idiots about your time on the playground,” Adam said, readily throwing the blame at their feet.

“Us? Like hell he is,” Peter shot back angrily. “He’s likely here about the Tickle incident.”

“We already handled that,” Fergus replied smugly.

Oh and how he wanted to wipe that shite eating grin off Fergus’ face once and for all. Clenching his jaw, Peter grumbled to himself, contemplating if he would be able to slip out before anything started.

“Maybe he’s a bit behind on the information?” Phil offered.

“Why don’t you go blow your lightsaber,” Adam scoffed. “Mycroft is never behind on news. He knows everything.”

“I don’t think so,” Phil muttered. “He certainly didn’t seem to know about his brother’s little tumble off the hospital roof until it was too late."

Using the tip of his umbrella to force Phil to look at him, Mycroft gave a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, making him look as though he might very well kill everyone in the room. “But I am very informed about the suicide of Mr. Tickle, so certainly that must count for something.”

“Yes, but I handled that,” Fergus said quickly. “Everything is perfectly fine. Sorry to interrupt your holiday.”

“Well in that case I’ll just be leaving.”

“Really?” Phil questioned, utterly confused at the way the rest of them groaned and rolled their eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Mycroft sighed softly. “Phillip, do try not to speak until after I leave, alright?”

“Yeah, but---“

“Ah ah ah. Those are words. Nod.”

Looking a bit unsure, Phil nodded slowly. All in all, he wasn’t quite unlike a newly trained puppy being put on display. Peter almost felt bad for him. Almost being the operative word, given that it was better Phil get the brunt of Mycroft’s anger than him.

And looking like the ever pleased trainer, Mycroft smiled. “Good boy. Now, Terri, can you get a cup of tea? Real tea, not that swill you lot like to give everyone else.”

“Yes sir,” she said before beating a quick retreat.

Peter didn’t think he would ever see the day that he was actually envious of that cow, but watching her get reprieved from the bloodletting that was bound to come certainly left him feeling jealous.

“Glenn, how are you?” Mycroft asked, apparently rather intent on stalling the inevitable.

“Fine. Uh... You?”

“I was having a lovely holiday at home until I was called away over this.”

“Once again, it really is taken care of,” Fergus offered, a bit more confidentially.

Waving Glenn off, Mycroft turned toward Fergus with not even an ounce of emotion on his face as he asked, “Then why are there photos of Mannion and Stewart playing on a slide in the country? Why are there video of Mannion looking like a genie going to a business meeting? And why have you two, with your delusions of adequacy, agreed to shell out a couple billion for a community bank? Because while I was rather hoping that she was just that good of a prostitute, I was told by my people that I was mistaken.”

Both Fergus and Adam were positively dumbstruck as they sat there like idiots, looking at ach other for the answer. Adam was the first to react, though, looking at Mycroft with as much confidence as any of them could muster.

“We needed something to get her out of here and it’s not like we’d be paying for it if it went forward,” he said a bit nervously.

“Yes,” Mycroft agreed as he nodded. “Saddle more burden onto the public. That is the type of intelligent thought that has Malcolm Tucker lying in a very comfortable bed pleasuring himself to your complete screw up.”

“Oh come on,” Adam argued, apparently not knowing when to shut up either. “It’s not as though they’re without problems.”

“Nicola can’t walk properly in public. You lot could be out-thought by brother.”

“Wait... I thought he was dead?” Phil questioned.

“Phillip, you’re speaking again.” Griping the edge of his umbrella tightly, Mycroft shook his head quietly. “Now, what I want is for you two boys to go wait in that office while father deals with the other brats because I need time and stiff drink before I can even begin to explain why it is I’m going to have you publicly eviscerated, alright?”

“I should at least get credit for defusing the entire situation,” Fergus complained as he did what he was told.

“Yes. And you did until you mimed fondling a woman’s chest,” Mycroft said, imitating Fergus’ air tits gesture, in case the imbecile never noticed just how it looked to the rest of the world. “Now go away before I decide to just have someone from six kill you or make you work with Phil. Just go.”

Without another word, both men left the room to go sulk about in Fergus’ office. Looking toward Mycroft, who had long since started to go a bit red in the face, Mannion hoped that he could get out of this entire bollocking session rather quickly, since he actually did have to get home and an upset Mycroft Holmes was the last person he wanted to deal with.

Walking back into the room as quickly as possible while carrying a cup of tea, Peter watched as Terri looked around, obviously trying to spot just where it was everyone was disappearing to as she made her way over to Mycroft. “Uh... Your tea.”

“Thank you, Terri.”

Sitting there as Mycroft sipped at his tea, Peter very nearly prayed that the nice cup was enough to ease Mycroft’s frayed nerves. Or at least that it wouldn’t serve as more fuel for what Peter was certain to be the brunt of the storm since that useless fuck, Fergus, actually had done some good in damage controlling the situation.

“ OK. Stewart...” Mycroft started off. Letting the sentence die though, he turned his attentions toward Peter and tried again. “OK. Mannion... I don’t even know who to start with because I know how this came about and I know what the PM is saying and what the public thinks. But... Honestly. You don’t have meetings in the middle of bumfuck nowhere unless you can get a damn phone service. I mean what if you had been bombed? Never mind, I would actually have preferred that at this point.”

“There’s no reason o be cruel,” Stewart said, looking like a chastised little boy. Or, as much as Stewart could look like such.

“Somewhere Malcolm Tucker is enjoying his own company. That somewhere is likely still in my bed where I was before you harebrained lemmings interrupted what was supposed to be a relaxing holiday. Now tell me, do I look relaxed?”

Holding up his hands in defence, Stewart said, “There was no way of knowing that he was going to off himself.”

“Wrong answer. The correct answer was ‘in future, we won’t publicly mock the unfortunate and make the entire government look like the incompetent idiots we are so that Mycroft doesn’t have to talk to us’.”

“You’re sleeping with Malcolm Tucker?” Phil asked, obviously shocked.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Mycroft looked as though he might actually lose hold of that posh gentleman persona he liked to keep up. “Oh hell. Phil, I understand that you’re the last one in on the game, partly because you can’t even tell the colour of the sky without looking at it first, but if you interrupt me one more time, I’m going to use the force within me to shove that lightsaber so far up your rectum, we’ll be able to see the blue glow when you open your mouth. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes,” he said, going pale when he noticed the way Mycroft was glaring at him. “I mean...”

Nodding like an idiot, Phil didn’t even look as though he bothered to breath until Mycroft finally looked away from him.

“Good Phil. Hold my cup,” Mycroft said, not even looking to make sure that Phil did as he was told, not that he had to. “Now, Mannion, I don’t care if you want to wear trousers better fit for the King of Alibaba than a minister, but please, when in crisis, do not leave Phil in charge and always make sure you have a spare set of clothes lying about in clear view because letting this overeager puppy handle such a task is putting far too much confidence in him.”

“Oh don’t start,” Peter said, unwilling to take the blame for that. “I didn’t even want to be there. Stupid group love bollocks, everyone sitting around in a fucking drum circle. I would’ve been happier if I had been with Tickle when he did it.”

“Also don’t say anything of that nature,” he said before turning toward Phil,who looked ready to piss himself. “Phil, next time bad things start happening, call Terri and let the adults handle things. Now Stewart...” Letting out a small growl, Mycroft shook his head again as he began to walk away. “Come take a walk with me.”

“Of course,” Stewart said, following after him.

Watching them leave, Peter finally rose to his feet, watching them like everyone else when the two men finally came to a stop. From the look on Stewart’s face, it clearly wasn’t good, but there was no way to tell just what was being said, much to his annoyance.

“Oh God. What do you think he’s telling him?” Emma asked, frowning as though that might help her decipher what was being said.

Peter shrugged. “I don’t know, but if he was in a better mood I’d certainly risk my neck to listen in.”

“It has to be awful if he was called in,” Emma pointed out. “I didn’t even think today was even that bad until he showed up.”

“He’s like the Grim Reaper of politics,” Phil complained from where he was still sitting. He was likely afraid that Mycroft might yell at him if he moved, since Mycroft would certainly be able to tell. “You don’t know how badly you’ve fucked up until he pops up to take your soul.”

“I rather like him,” Terri offered out of nowhere.

“That’s because he only ever asks you to get him tea,” Peter sneered.

“That and you want to mount him like a dragon.” Noticing the way everyone was lookgin at him again, Phil frowned. “What? You ride you dragons.”

Ignoring him, Terri said, “Just because I noticed he’s an attractive man doesn’t mean anything.”

“Especially not since he’s sleeping with Malcolm,” Peter pointed out a bit bitterly. Of course the only other prat who could easily steal Terri’s attention from him had to be into verbal abuse and aging Scots. “It’s like every night terror come to life, those two as a couple.”

“Shut up. He’s coming back this way,” Emma said as they all rushed to look as though they hadn’t just been conversing about him.

A useless task given that as soon as Mycroft walked in the room, he looked them all over before rolling his eyes and turning his focus back toward Stewart, who looked as hough he’d just had his entire family slaughtered.

“Thank you, Stewart. Now, I’ll just be off to speak to Fergus and Adam. And remember, you lot, if anything of this nature happens again I will ruin the prime minister if only so I can ensure that Malcolm and the Opposition get control again since at least when they let everything go to shit it didn’t interfere with my sex life,” he said before disappearing into Fergus’ office.

Going over to Stewart, Emma asked, “Stewart, are you alright?”

The man merely shook his head as he rubbed at his eyes. “I need to go home. Detox and re-evaluate today.”

Nodding, Emma kindly led Stewart out, leaving Peter sitting in his seat yet again, although he felt at least ten times happier.

“Bloody hell.”

“And they’re apparently mates,” Terri said. “Can only imagine how Mycroft’s going to treat Fergus.”

Turning his seat to face Fergus’ office, Peter said, “Oh now I know I need to stay here for this.”

Because after all, why was that only Malcolm got to enjoy their misery? Certainly after the shit day he’d had, he was entitled to the shared misery of DoSAC as well.


End file.
